Darlin', won't you ease my worried mind (pt. 2)

The club was too dark and the music too loud. The electric bass thrumming through the speakers pumped through her body and beat inside her chest. The song had a sexy rolling beat that paused at just the right places. It was a true clubbing song with hardly any words at all, except for the rare occasion when a man's deep voice boomed as the music lulled, stating simply ‘the devil’s hands have been busy’, and then the beat would boom richly in her chest again. Multi-colored spotlights swirled around the dance floor, the only light that illuminated the massive center of the club. Strips of red tinted LED’s ran across the walls and wall scones held electric candles that didn't provide much lighting at all. True, it was dark outside, but the city glow and the street lamps lining the sidewalk were terribly bright compared to the inside of the club.

It took a few minutes for Layla's eyes to adjust. She blindly made her way through the crowds of people and towards the bar. There were dim red lights framing the bartenders from behind and that was the only thing she could clearly make out. There were no empty seats at the bar but she found room to stand near the wall. The bartenders were vampires; one male and one female. They each wore tightly fitted cropped red tops and form fitting black leather pants. The female had long dark hair and may have had a trace of Asian heritage, though Layla couldn't be certain. The male had shaggy brown hair that fell into his crisp blue eyes. His nose was slightly too large for the rest of his face, but Layla found him attractive. The female took the time to smile and flash fangs at each customer but the male bartender had a devilish stoic energy about him. When he finally made his way over to take Layla’s order, she decided on a glass of orange juice and tipped way too much. She liked to drink but she had found that the high from being bitten was too sloppy when she mixed it with alcohol and she certainly planned on being bitten tonight, getting her fix of vampire venom, commonly referred to as “juice” on the streets.

She sipped on her orange juice even though it was not the juice she truly desired as she walked through the club, taking in all the sights. She was quite impressed. From the outside it had looked like one large room but that was clearly not the case. Small rooms made up of three walls each lined the left side of the club, opposite the bar. Some of them had tables inside that one could strap a person to. Some had chains dangling from the walls. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she began to make out what resembled bike racks lined up in a row in front of the cubicle-like rooms. As the spotlights twisted and hit them, she saw flecks of silver shining and was pretty sure those were handcuffs and ankle cuffs she was seeing shining in the flickering, twisting luminescence. She had used contraptions like that before at the vampire club in Birmingham, Chains-N-Fangs. She could hear the delicate thud of a paddle and the crack of the flogger, even with the pounding music filling her ears. She couldn't see much that was occurring in any of the private dominance cubicle rooms, a trick with the lighting they must have used when they designed the club, but she knew there were people playing in them. She fought the urge to rush over, introduce herself, strip down to her panties and join in the fun. It would be fun, but making new “play buddies” wasn't her goal tonight. Besides, she would most likely find David and Bobby in one of those cubicles. She wanted to try to avoid them as much as possible for the remainder of the evening.

Directly in front of her, between herself and the rooms, was a large stage that started where the dance floor ended and was raised about as high up as she was tall. Layla was 5’3”. She would guess the stage was five feet off the ground. Small steps against the wall led up onto the stage. Large polished wooden sculptures of seductive nude vampires that rose to the ceiling decorated each corner of the platform. On the left corner there was a very tall stripper pole. On the right, a pair of chains with cuffs that extended from the vaulted ceiling. Layla could only imagine the types of shows they must put on. She sort of hoped a show would be performed tonight. A wide staircase was at the back of the stage and it went up to the top floor which she could only assume was the VIP section. Did you have to walk up the stage to get to VIP? Seemed an odd design and she was certain there had to be another staircase up somewhere. Her eyes followed the stairs to the top floor and she turned in a circle to check it out. It was an open floor plan. The second story of the club was only on the outer edges of the building, wrapping around into a balcony that looked down on the dance floor. Tables with two seats and an array of leather couches decorated the entire length of the railing on the top floor. She saw shadows of people up there looking down on the crowd, watching. She knew that a lot of them looking down at her were probably vampires. She had found that they like to observe before they approached anyone. She knew this game all too well.

Once she thought she was being watched, she turned it up a notch. Layla walked out towards the dance floor; not onto it but right at the edge. She leaned casually and provocatively against a metal beam that stretched to the ceiling. She threw her head back exposing the delicate curve of her neck, knowing that any vampire watching would be tempted by her pulse dancing with the beat of the bass under her skin. She gently, slowly, rolled her hips with the beat, trying to look as sensual and delicious as possible. One song went by. And another. And another. Her neck was starting to cramp and she probably looked like a fool. She decided it would be best to just go back to the bar and wait until the crowd thinned down some. Plus her orange juice was gone and she could use some more. She turned abruptly and ran smack into a man, her face buried in his chest.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Really, I’m so sorry.” She was avoiding making eye contact because she felt like such a fumbling fool. She tried to slip away but he grabbed her arm.

His voice came out thick and rich like melted butter and oozed over her skin, warm and sensual. “It is I who should apologize. I have been standing here for quite some time but could not think of what to say. All I could think was how delightful you smelled. It reminds me of marshmallows. They were always my favorite treat as a child. What is your name, beautiful blue mistress?”

She followed the hand on her arm up to the face of the man. A mop of tousled red hair framing his face like a fiery halo caught her eye first. It looked thick and soft, and an overwhelming urge to run her hands through that beautiful mess devoured her. Framing his flawless face, the thick red waves pulled at her eyes. His clear, pale skin seemed almost radiant in the flashing club lights and was as smooth as porcelain. His mouth was wide and full, his lips so pink, and she wanted to taste them against her own. Breathtaking green eyes held onto hers and she noticed flecks of gold in them, adding to the radiance of his face. She had never seen eyes so bright, almost neon, and they reminded her of a cat. His gaze pressed into her, opening her up. It was as if he tapped into the part of her brain that controlled her desires. As she looked into his eyes, she knew he was the one. He was the one who would do all the things she wanted so badly, needed so desperately. She did not have to ask. She could tell he was a vampire.

“I’m.... I’m sorry,” she said again, stumbling over her words. “Layla. I’m.. I'm Layla.”

He let out a wonderfully warm laugh and slid her arm into his own. He began to lead her towards the left side of the club, where the S&M cubicles were.

“It is wonderful to meet you, Layla. I suppose it is not just I that was having trouble with words.” He smiled down at her. She was staring up at him like he wasn’t real. “It is okay. I have a feeling that what we are going to do will not require many words. I sense that you enjoy being whipped?”

Layla was so taken back by his beauty that she couldn't seem to think straight. All words seemed to have left her and it took her a second to realize he was talking about dominance play. She would have eagerly answered yes if she could have but her voice failed her.

“Flogger? Cat tails? Restraints?” She continued to stare up at him with that same star struck look in her eyes. Her lack of answers seemed to excite him and a smile curled the edge of his lips. “Something more dangerous? Knife play, perhaps?”

She shook her head and finally managed a quiet “No, no knives.”

They were on the other side of the club now, in front of the dominance play cubicles. He turned to face her faster than her eyes could follow and pressed himself into her, grinding his pelvis firmly against her own. He had her pushed back against one of the restraint bars. His hands were on her shoulders but she didn’t remember him putting them there. They trailed lightly down her arms until he was holding her hands palms down on the cold metal bar, under his own. He leaned in, pressing his cheek against hers and whispered “Maybe I will just cuff you to this pole, here and now, and fuck you raw.”

She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until it came out in one long shaky sigh. He beamed with the most unholy grin.

“Wouldn’t you need...” Layla paused, leaning in closer and pressed her mouth to his ear. “Blood to be intimate?”

The vampire breathed the words back into her ear. “Oooohhh. You would like me to sink something else deep inside of your flesh, yes?” He trailed a strand of warm breath down her neck leaving goosebumps all along her skin.

“Maybe somewhere more private?” she managed to whisper. She knew biting in public was illegal but thought that in one of those dark cubicles they could get away with it rather easily.

“Ahhhh. Now I see what you desire. Come with me.”

He led her by the hand to the front door, out of the club, and into the cool night air. He moved faster than she anticipated and she was stumbling on her five-inch heels as he dragged her along.

“Where are we going?” Layla managed to ask.

“Someplace more private. Like you requested.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

Once outside, he wrapped her arm in his and they walked to the parking lot adjacent to the club. He clicked a button on his keychain and a deep silver Mazda CX 5 flashed its lights and beeped at them. He held the door open for her before climbing into the driver’s seat.

The ride was very quiet but her level of anticipation never dropped. She tried to break the silence with small talk, but he had only grinned at her and said “My darling. I am perfectly comfortable with a silent ride. Some would say it is golden.” He smiled at her again and inserted a cd. Billy Idol’s “Rock the Cradle of Love” came oozing out the speakers at a gentle volume.

They rode for nearly half an hour before taking the exit to Ashville, Alabama. Ashville was mainly a farming town and mostly woods. Many of the citizens were poverty stricken and lived in trailers down long dirt roads but just as many were middle to upper middle class members of the same community. It wasn’t uncommon for the houses and trailers to be pushed back sometimes a mile from the main road into the woods. Layla watched the trees zoom by, her mind entertaining the idea of why a vampire would want to live in a town like this. The big city she lived in seemed more appropriate but she didn’t dare ask for his motivation. She relaxed into the seat and let his pick of 80’s songs soothe her nerves. He had pretty nice taste in music, she thought.

They drove deeper into the country for several minutes before turning off onto a dirt road. It was bumpy, long, and un-lit. Nervousness built in her stomach, worrying that he was taking her to a creepy shack in the woods but then she saw the peaks of the house looming large over the treetops. They pulled around a semicircle to park directly in front of this house pushed back into a thicket of woods. From the outside it looked like every other middle American home. The lawn was green and trimmed. Shrubs delicately framed the porch and even in the dead of night she could see pretty purple pansies growing sporadically. It was a very average-looking, well-kept red brick home but she suspected it was much larger inside than the pretty front led you to believe. As she approached the house, she noticed the two large bay windows on the bottom floor, beautifully framed with white trim like the peaks on top of the house, however there were no windows on the top floor, which she found odd. It seemed to suggest that he bunked upstairs. She had just assumed that a vampire would sleep on the lowest level of their home, like the basement perhaps.

The vampire turned his head up towards the sky, following her gaze. He had noticed her staring at the top floor.

“What worries you?”

Layla gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh. Nothing. I was just admiring the house. It’s beautiful!” He returned her smile and headed up the stairs to the front door.

The vampire unlocked the front door and held it open for her. She was greeted by a great white and silver marbled fireplace that stretched two stories high. A white, clawfoot loveseat was placed at an angle in front of the beautiful fireplace, with a pair of antique looking chairs upholstered in red velvet on either side. There was a white bearskin rug carefully arranged between the seating and a framed zebra skin off to the side. The rest of the décor seemed to match the red, black, and white motif. It had a very classy and dramatic effect. It was how she had always pictured a vampire’s lair looking, except on a much larger scale.

He slid the strap of her purse from her shoulder and tossed it carelessly onto one of the chairs. He was smiling at her, a wide grin full of knowledge and anticipation. His smile seemed to split his face in two, bright white teeth filling the entire lower half of his face, brilliant and yet terrifying. His eyes sparkled wildly, different from how they had in the club. She knew the look he held in his eyes all too well, for it was the same look that danced in the eyes of the vampire that had lost control with her seven months ago. His mask had come off, as if the last façade of sanity he held onto for the public had been tossed onto the couch with her bag, left to pick up tomorrow on his way out the door. He looked so wicked and yet still charming. Many girls would have run screaming when they saw that twisted layer that he kept at bay, but not Layla. Layla’s heart beat had sped up, her breath coming quicker as excitement filled her at what he may do to her.

The fiery vampire led her by the hand up the large, curved staircase and into the hall. He walked backwards, never taking his eyes from her own. The top floor of the house had many bedrooms, though all the doors were closed. He led her down a long white hallway to the right of the stairs. Framed pictures of red roses hung between the doors, accentuating the austerity of the hallway. When they were nearly to the end of the hall, he kicked a door with his heel and led her into the bedroom.

It suddenly occurred to her what a huge deal this was. She had never been invited to a vampire’s lair. She was so flattered. Vampires do not reveal their lairs to anyone that they do not have a deep trust with. When she realized she did not even know his name, she set the hesitation it caused aside in her mind so she could enjoy the experience. Without realizing he had turned her around, suddenly she was the one walking backwards and he was pressing against her, pushing her towards the bed. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath along her skin but he wasn’t kissing her, just pushing her forward with his torso. He dropped low to the floor, still maintaining eye contact, and pulled hard on her skirt until it fell to the floor. He hadn’t even bothered with the zipper. Thankfully the material had a little give and stretch to it or he would have busted the zipper. Not that she cared too terribly much at that moment. She watched as he undid the button on his black dress slacks and they fell to the floor in a heap beside her skirt. He grabbed her hips and pushed her until she was pressed against the bed when he fell onto her, locking his soft lips firmly around her own. He kissed her hard and passionately, as if he would drink her in. As if this was the last kiss she would ever have.

He lifted her up onto the huge, four poster bed and tossed her down onto the thick, red down comforter. He climbed on top of her with feline grace and began to kiss down the side of her neck as she squirmed beneath him. A small moan passed her lips as he found that sensitive hollow where her neck met her shoulder. He sucked eagerly as she ran her hands through the thick mess atop his head. His hair was silky soft, just as she had imagined. She had wanted to run her hands through his gorgeous hair from the first moment she had seen him. It had been all she could think about. And now here she was, in his home, on his bed, exploring his body with her hands.

He continued to work his mouth on her neck, bringing small helpless gasps to her lips. She ached for his fangs to penetrate her, but he didn't yet give her what she wanted. His hand inched from her waist up her stomach and towards her breast. He lifted her up with ease and raised her top over her head, tossing the glittery sheer fabric into the far corner of the room. He leaned in for another kiss, his hand caressing her, softly pinching her nipple between his fingers until it stiffened. He sat back up above her, on his knees. He watched her watch him as he undid the buttons of his black dress shirt. He was faster than anything she had ever seen before. His fingers didn’t once stumble or slip. He tossed it in the same direction as her shirt as she drank in the image of his now nearly naked body.

He was thin but very cut, without an extra ounce on him. It wasn’t just his face that seemed luminous. His skin all over seemed to glow, even without the lights of the club. He was smiling down at her, a huge Cheshire grin stretching across his face. She ran her hands lightly over the fine layer of red hair cascading down the center of his torso, tracing her way down the smooth perfection that was his body.

He lifted her up, pulling her to sit on top of his thighs and she wrapped her legs around him. He pressed the length of her body against his own. His skin was cool and dry against hers; the sensation stiffened her nipples further and ran a chill across her flesh. He pressed his full soft lips against hers eagerly. He forced her lips open with his tongue and began to explore her mouth. His kisses were deep and full of need, much like her own. His hands slid down her back, fingertips tensing to nails, scratching deeper and deeper as they made their way down. At first she hadn’t realized that he had drawn blood but then she felt a familiar warm dripping sensation on the small of her back. It hurt but she did not care. She enjoyed the pain. It made her feel alive.

He grabbed her ass firmly as he ground himself against her, showing his excitement even though he wasn’t fully engorged yet, just slightly swollen. She thought it must have been a while since he had fed. She knew that once he took her blood in he would grow full quickly and be ready to enter her.

He stopped kissing her then and pulled back enough to see her face. The look in his eyes made her heart catch in her throat right before it began beating against her like a caged bird. She hadn’t felt this excited and nervous in a very long time. The feral look in his striking green eyes told her he felt the same way. He looked like a stalking tiger about to pounce and at that moment, she knew he was going to lose control. She knew and it excited her more than she ever thought possible.

The edge of his lips curled again into a devious smile revealing that he had extended his long sharp fangs. He shoved her hard and she fell back onto the bed. Less than a second after that he was on her, his fangs tearing into her chest, right above her right breast. It was not a controlled neat bite. He did not gingerly pierce her flesh with his fangs. No. He tore at her like a wild animal. His venom began to pump into her in a cold chilling rush. It spread out quickly inside of her, filling her veins with a comfortable chill. He lifted from the wound as the world began to grow beautiful and fuzzy before her very eyes. It was only a few short seconds before he fell into her again, his fangs piercing the flesh above her left breast, not as frantic this time. He was sucking hard and her head was swimming. Euphoria flooded her and every touch brought her closer and closer, building tension inside of her that was eager to burst. She was trying to keep a grasp on reality but was losing the battle. She could feel him growing between her thighs and his deep moans let her know he was enjoying himself much as she was. She reached down between his legs, grabbing him through the silky fabric of his undies and squeezed as he sucked her blood and pumped her full of even more venom. She began to work her hand up and down his shaft through the fabric as she grinded herself against him as much as the angle would allow.

Layla didn’t remember him taking off his underwear or her panties, but somehow he had stripped completely naked, and she was adorned in only her big black boots. With his mouth still locked around her flesh, he pressed himself against her most sensitive spot so hard it drew a sharp gasp of pain. She liked pain. She wanted more. She let out a frustrated moan, no other thought in her mind besides “Please fuck me, please, please!”. He released her flesh from his mouth and as if he could read her mind he said “With fucking pleasure”.

All at once he pushed his hips forward burying himself deep inside of her and she let out a long loud moan. He was large and had to fight against the tightness of her body, but she was wet, so very wet, and it didn't take long until he was buried deep, as far as he could go. She gasped at the sensation. He began pumping in and out of her most sensitive spot in the most wonderful rhythm; fast, fast, slow. Fast, fast, slow. She felt the tension building even quicker now, a beautiful trick of the venom. She scrambled, clawing at the thick red comforter, trying to find something to hold onto but failing. She tried to glance down to see him working himself in and out of her and noticed that his chest was decorated in red splotches. The image reminded her of a piece of fine art, her own blood on him like some odd and pricey art piece that would be hanging in his hallway. It amused her to think he matched the rest of the house. White and red. Maybe that was why he had chosen that particular color scheme. It looked beautiful on him. She wanted to reach out and touch the work of art that her blood and his skin created, but found that she needed her hands, desperately fighting to find something to grip. Something to hold on to to help her match his rhythm.

Her eyes couldn’t focus so she stopped trying and let them close. She felt as though they were being lifted off the bed by some magical force, floating together in mid-air in a sadistic bloody embrace. His pace changed, a frantic speed now. He pumped into her faster than she knew was humanly possible. She threw her head back and let out a moan that was almost a scream as he brought her to orgasm.

He drew back again, this time gasping for air. He panted and licked at Layla’s blood on his lips as he caught his breath. She peered her eyes open just enough to have a look at his gorgeous face and body above her own. She couldn't help but focus on her blood that decorated his chest and stomach and while she thought it truly was beautiful, she had a moment of clarity that perhaps he wounded her more than she knew. It seemed a lot of blood suddenly but as quick as the worry came, it was washed away in a sigh of ecstasy.

He looked down at her, and was smiling again. Her blood was a thick coating at the corners of his mouth, a bright red smear across his chin, and a single drop dripped lazily down his chin and onto her face. She was so high and happy, basking in the afterglow, that she didn’t even bother to wipe it away. He was whispering something but she didn’t understand him. Was that English? Certainly not. It sounded almost like a foriegn language but it was nothing she had ever heard before and she couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t imagining it.

Her face began to tingle, like pins and needles. The tingling spread to her neck and chest, into her arms and down to her hands. Slowly it filled her entire body. What was this sensation? Was it caused by his venom? She had never felt this way before from a bite. She didn't even know it was possible. Was it possible? She wanted to ask him but for some reason couldn't find enough strength to even use her voice. She tried to move but found it difficult and painful. The vampire above her began to laugh.

“Is this what you desired, my beautiful donor? Is this what you wanted? I have bled you and bedded you but what comes next? What does a vampire do with his dinner when he is finished?”

She tried to answer but again found that no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t find her voice; his venom cascaded through her body and she was barely conscious.

“Answer me this. Do you want to die?”

She wanted to answer, she truly did, but her voice failed her once more. She wanted to ask him not to kill her but more than anything she just wanted him to touch her again. She then realized that she didn’t care how the touch was received, she just needed to feel him against her. One way or another. She tried to reach out for him as she thought “Please, just touch me!”.

Again it appeared as if he could read her mind. The smile spread further and further across his face until it seemed all she could see was his beautiful white teeth and those glorious fangs, that dangerous cheshire smile that excited her so very much. The world was growing fuzzy and dim as she lost her grip on reality. He slid down the length of her body and buried his face and his fangs into her stomach as his hand slid up the moistness that coated her thighs.

And then the darkness swallowed her whole.